


of a song I can't get out

by Spooky_Skittles



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gift Fic, Leftist unity, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, ancom uses they/qui, ancom uses they/qui pronouns interchangeably !!, libcap (mentioned), mutualist is a trans girl bc i say so, yall are gonna MELT like the ice caps bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky_Skittles/pseuds/Spooky_Skittles
Summary: ancom and tankie are stupid and gay pt 19284732happy valentines day!
Relationships: Anarcho-Communism/Communism (Centricide)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	of a song I can't get out

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a gift for my jralentine @arsoncatboy on twt ur so swag and funny I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it ^_^ !!!

Ancom had never been asked out for Valentine’s Day.

They were more the type to encourage their friends to go make out with that cute guy or to urge them to confess their feelings for this other girl because ‘she totally likes you back’. Many times it had worked out, many others it hadn’t, and they had to be the shoulder to cry on over what could’ve been.

To be pretty honest, playing cupid was probably way more fun than actually being involved in anything serious. And certainly less embarrassing than whatever shit fest was happening right now, in the main hallway of Centricide High.

As was tradition, the boisterous, popular rich twink known as Ancap was gifting his slightly less annoying boyfriend Libertarian a dozen yellow and white flowers while narrating some long-ass Ayn Rand text in front of the entire school, first thing in the morning. 

The two were boasting about their successful relationship all the damn time. Making out in the halls, in the classrooms, in the cafeteria. You could never catch them more than 6ft apart from one another. It was rumored that Ancap had bribed the principal to let them take every class together. He always said it was fake, but knowing him, it probably wasn’t.

Quis thoughts were interrupted by the voice of their best friend, saying what everyone witnessing this was probably thinking at this point: “Jesus Christ can they get a fucking room?” 

Ancom snickered into quis sleeve at the comment and lightly nudged Anqueers arm after receiving a few unwarranted looks from other students.

The taller one didn’t seem to mind all that much, as they were used to being the center of attention. Their pink hair and facial piercings made them hard to miss.

“C’mon, let’s not lose more time on these losers,” Anqueer said, a bit quieter this time, “I got some more ideas for next week.” 

Ancom rolled their eyes and followed quis friend onto the next class of the day.

\------♥------

The far table of the school’s cafeteria was kind of a safe haven for quem in such a shitty environment, right next to the GSA and quis own bedroom. But right now, the cheerfulness of quis closest friends had seemingly evaporated out of thin air as they waited for Anpac to look up from her pocket calculator.

She was the most agile of them all with maths (god knows the rest were hopeless), so it was his task to either lift the peoples’ spirits or bring them down even further.

“In total we now have…” everyone seated took a breath, even Anfash, who only participated in the club because the rest forced him to, awaited the answer eagerly.

“Sixteen dollars and fifty cents!” 

Anqueer looked like they were about to snap.

The pink-haired took a deep breath, a habit they had developed to stop themself from kicking each of their friends’ asses. This time though, it had an air of defeat to it.

“That’s all?” Anqueer asked as if expecting a different answer this time.

The other glanced at her calculator screen again for a moment, before looking up with a pitying look on her face. “Yep.” 

The table went quiet, like a collective minute of silence for their friend’s sanity. See, the thing is, originally, they were given money by the school that was supposed to get them through the entire year. Clearly, none of quis friends knew a thing about budgeting. Scratch that, they didn't know a thing period. _How the fuck did we manage to spend all that money in so little time_ , Ancom thought.

“It’s fine,” they said, adding some fake bravado to their voice, “we can make it work. We just need to do more planning and cut costs on irrelevant things, maybe even sell some stuff or-”

“No offense but there’s no way we can organize Valentine’s Day ball with less than twenty dollars as our budget.”

“Shut the fuck up Annilh!”

“I’m just saying maybe we would have more money if someone-” “For the last time dude, I didn’t buy a fucking hammer with the funds!”

_Ah, they’re back to normal it seems._

The ramblings of their friends made them tune out of the conversation. Maybe qui should try and hook them up with the decoration department kids from the theatre club. But then they would want something in return and Ancom was not willing to buy booze for a bunch of fourteen-year-olds. Or worse, weed. 

Qui could ask the people in the collective. That could definitely work, they’re all very kind. All except-

A slight kick in the shin was painful enough to shake them away from their thoughts and back into reality. They sent a mean stare to Anfash, who sent an equally mean grin back.

The playful tone of Mutualists’ voice filled quis ears all of a sudden, “Helloooo, earth to Ancom?”   
Qui had a puzzled expression on quis face.

Their friend rolled her eyes, “I was asking if you were gonna come hang with us this weekend or not.”

“Oh! No, sorry. I’m going to the garden again this week. Gonna check up on the herbs.”  
A collective groan was heard across the table. Qui uttered a questioning noise.

“C’mon we all know it’s all an excuse to see that guy. Uh... What’s his name again?” started Annilh, pensive.

The brunet was still completely lost. I don’t really talk to many people there. _Unless they’re referring to-_ “Wh- You mean Tankie?” 

“Yeah! That guy! The broody one with the strong arms who’s all mysterious and shit.”

Anqueer laughed, “Dude you’re describing him like he’s in some kinda YA dystopian novel.” 

Wait a minute… “You guys think I like Tankie?!” qui screeched, receiving a few odd glances from nearby tables. 

Their friends looked at each other like qui just said something crazy. Finally, Anpac spoke up, “I- I believed that was implied, yeah.”

Ancom truly didn’t understand. They didn’t like him. Qui went to the garden because they liked being useful and helping people. Not because of this dude who mostly spoke to quem in grunts and monosyllables, interspersed with the casual insult or stupid nickname (like, who the fuck hears the name ‘Ancom’ and immediately thinks ‘Anarkitty.’ A bitch, that’s who.)

Not to mention his insufferably smug tone whenever he was right about something.

“What the fuck! No! Absolutely not! Listen, the other day, he tried lecturing me about leaving the tools on the floor as if-”

“Trust me we’ve already heard this one,” said Mutualist.

"Bickering is your way to show love," Anqueer said, plainly, "that's the whole reason we're here."

Qui sighed, in defeat, “You guys suck.”

Anfash’s hand patted quis shoulder with fake sympathy, “Chin up, fag.”

\------♥------

Ancom had a hard time with romance.

Because sometimes (most times) they were completely blind to it.

Qui still remembered back in middle school when a classmate of quis had spent an entire year trying to hit on quem. Qui thought it was purely platonic and laughed it off. He bought quem roses on multiple occasions. Actual red roses. Poor kid.

Their first relationship had failed because according to her, qui treated her like another one of their friends. To which qui replied, in a moment of pure unadulterated brilliance, ‘Isn’t that what you are?’ 

It was a messy breakup to say the least. No need to mention that they were no longer friends.

No, qui wasn’t actually the best at handling this sort of stuff. At all. But subconsciously feeling love and demonstrating said love was way easier than thinking about it. And quis friends were somewhat aware of this.

For Ancom, romance was like a 10 piece children’s puzzle, laid out right there for quem, it only took someone else to shake quem into looking at it so that they realized the puzzle was indeed, a 10 piece puzzle. Love can be easy. There was no reason for quem to think it didn’t have to.

Maybe it was the way everyone else talked about it like romance was supposed to be complex. One of those 3D Eiffel Tower puzzles, except it came with the instructions in an ancient language and no pictures

_Am I simple-minded for thinking like that?_

They laughed to themself. Tankie would’ve said so. He was such a fucking asshole.

Ancom would never admit that qui secretly enjoyed his quiet company and occasional snarky comments. It was ridiculous. He was like a grumpy old man in the body of a teenager. Grandpa clothes and all. Meddlesome and strict, very firm but very sarcastic.

That combination of factors on anyone else would’ve made them insufferable in the eyes of the free-spirited anarchist. But on the Russian, it was part of the charm. 

It was... soothing? To come back from quis crazy ass group of equally dumb friends and to just talk and talk. Qui loves quis friends more than anything but they were all equally loud and outgoing, so discussing stuff calmly wasn’t something they really did. 

At first, qui thought Tankie didn’t care, but as time passed qui realized that he did. He encouraged quem to keep going about some obscure band or something that had pissed quem off during class. And he remembered to tell quem when he saw a street cat rummaging near the garden because he knew how much qui liked them- which now that qui thought about it, might have been the reason for quis annoying nickname.

But qui didn’t like Tankie. Not like that at least.

Sure he was handsome, they guessed but qui barely knew anything about Tankie, other than that they went to the same grade and that he enjoyed taking care of the flowers the most.

And that he read a lot in his free time, often walking in with a book under his arm before putting it down and starting to work. Ancom would ask about what the book was and Tankie either didn’t reply or talked about the subject extensively. Qui didn’t really listen to what he was saying, rather listening to his voice, which seeped through quem like honey. In that calm deep raspy tone of his.

And that when he concentrated very hard on something he would put on a very weird face that always made quem laugh. He was dedicated to his labor and liked what he did, what he could do to help. When Ancom first asked why he was working there, the Russian had a kind of underlying sadness in his eyes. A faint sense of guilt. The brunet didn’t ever want to see that expression on him ever again. It just didn't fit him.

And that he didn’t like stepping on bugs so he would scoop them up from the dirt and placed them on the tree leaves to avoid stepping on them. He was gentle, despite his brutish appearance and often abrupt comments that might come off as mean spirited. Qui saw Tankie like this and couldn’t help to think what his calloused hands might look like on quis-

Quis eyes went wide. A visible flush across quis usually paleish skin. Shit.

Their friends were right.

Ancom stayed up later than usual for reasons that were completely and totally unrelated to Tankie. Yep. Absolutely nothing to do with him.

\------♥------

“Will you please just tell me where we’re going?”

“Nuh-uh! You have to wait.”

A laugh quickly hidden by a scoff was heard behind quem, “Sure, Anarkitty.”

“Don’t call me that!”

The two had finished their tasks earlier than usual, which gave Ancom both the last bit of courage needed and the right amount of time to drag Tankie with quem down from the busy streets to the old and dirty alleyways.

Ancom would occasionally spare a glance at quis phone to see if they were going the right way. Qui was not that good with directions. Especially not when qui was going to do something so… embarrassing? Cheesy? Both? Probably both.

Qui didn't know which was warmer, their linked hands or quis face from thinking about it. Or that Tankie hadn’t pulled away from quem the entire journey. Shit.

They took a right turn then a left turn, then dashed down the street. The more they kept going the fewer and fewer people there were until they were almost the only ones around. 

Finally, recognition struck quem in the face. Bingo. 

“We’re here!” they exclaimed, turning to see Tankie, who had a perplexed expression but eager eyes.

“Uh,” he said, looking down at quem, “what am I supposed to be looking at?”

In a whim of exasperation and impatience, qui grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around, which gathered some complaints by the taller one. God, you’re so fucking dumb. I like you so much.

What they were now staring at was a half-demolished building stuck right in between two others. Its left wall, about seven feet tall, had been given new life by the murals covering it from one side to the other. They overlapped, clashing in colors, light, and even texture. Some were more worn down than others. But the one that stood out the most was the first Tankie laid eyes on.

A green field covered in golden yellow flowers expanded as far as the eye can see. The sky above them was clean, and the sun was up high, allowing them to shine even more. It was full of life and movement. Tankie could almost see them glowing. Each trace, each detail was carefully put in place. Strangely, it looked like something he had seen before, despite not having any memory of such a beautiful place. Had he been here, he would’ve definitely remembered. Maybe it was the grass traced carefully, or the faraway trees being wrapped in vines. It was certainly dream-like.

“Whaddya think?” qui chimed in, impatient as ever, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” Tankie replied, sounding out of breath for the first time since qui had known him. He tilted his head lightly to focus on the painting and reached out a finger to trace the orange hue of the flowers. Cute, cute, cute.

Ancom felt quis lips tug up to form the brightest smile. “Well,” they started, trying to sound less smitten and more smug, “I made it all by myself.”

Tankie snapped his head back to look at them, eyes now fully wide on awe and admiration. The shorter one was now one step away from melting. There's no way he didn't know how effortlessly handsome he looked. It drove quem crazy.

“Really? You?” 

_Fucking bitch._

Ancom shouted at him and punched his shoulder lightly. “Yes, me, you asshole!” 

The taller one gave quem a side grin and rubbed his shoulder, with an underlying softness, “This is great work, comrade. I didn’t know your mind could make such beautiful art, is all.”

Qui sputtered, blushing, before sending a quick ‘thank you’ his way. My knees are literally weak. What the hell, Tankie.

Ancom slumps down onto the pavement floor, leaving Tankie to observe the other murals alone. Qui grabs a cigarette from quis bag. The smell was awful, but it calmed quis nerves momentarily. This is stupid. Qui was never nervous about anything really. Ancom always carried themself with pride. They should be able to go through with this too. 

Qui exhales, pushing out the smoke. The street lamps were turning on.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Sure. Want one?” Ancom asked, shaking the cigarette box. Tankie accommodated himself next to quem. Right at that moment, their knees are touching and quis stomach is doing backflips. 

“Sure,” he reached for the green lighter Ancom was still holding. Qui silently observed him take a long drag out of it, lips slightly parted. 

Smoke now fills the tiny alley.

Qui doesn’t know how long they stay like this, just sitting on the ground in company. Ancom wonders if Maybe Tankie can feel how on edge they were, as he breaks the silence first.

“Is there something wrong, Anarkitty?”

 _It’s now or never I guess._ “Um- Yes! Well, kind of. Honestly, I don’t know. I mean it’s not a problem for me but maybe it is for you and then it would be a problem for both of us. But I don't want it to be a problem because that would make me sad. I don't like being sad.”

Tankie looked obviously perplexed at that answer- if it even counted as an answer and wasn't just an unholy amount of mindless blubbering. He slowly raised an eyebrow.

_Why am I so dumb._

“Ok, let me start over,” qui took a deep breath and repositioned quemself to be facing towards the other.

“I have- No, that sounds weird. I think- Erm. I like you, Tankie. I like you so much it makes me look stupid. I hadn't realized until literally last night but there are so many things about you I just... Things about you I could sit and observe for days. And despite always calling you an asshole and teasing you and fighting, I consider you a friend and- You deserved to know this. Even if you don’t like me back. Which hopefully won't make things too awkward.”

Their faces were closer than ever, and qui could notice a number of facial scars on his. Qui wanted to trace them with quis finger. He just stared for a second, maybe it was twenty, maybe it was an hour. 

“I-” he started, “Me too. I feel the same. I mean."

Ancom short-circuited.

"Wait. Me? What? For real? Me? Why?" qui was sputtering. How embarrassing. Tankie, however, let out a deep laugh and shook his head.

"Yes, I really do. I've liked you for a while. I don't think I can properly explain myself. I simply do. It's nice being around you and listening to you, and god you are beautiful, Anarkitty. From what you are like what you make." He gestured to the mural. "You're filled with a passion I've never seen before."

"Oh.

"Indeed. Oh."

Qui blushed, "You've outshined my confession completely. Now I sound dumb."

Tankie laughed loudly, making Ancom laugh along with him. The butterflies in quis stomach had settled completely by now, a sense of giddiness now taking their place. A few beats of silence followed, and unlike before, these were comfortable. Like the ones, they had while working at the community garden. 

There was still something qui wanted to do.

Ancom reaches for his cheek, "I know this might sound odd but can I- kiss you?" Tankie puts his hand over the one Ancom has on his face, and slowly leans in as a response, their hot breaths now intermingling. His eyes are a deep dark brown and qui doesn't want to stop looking. Qui places a peck, and then another and another. It's easy to get used to this.

Qui could do it forever.

\------♥------

Ancom frantically runs around the high school corridors in quis trusty pair of black converse, holding quis long green skirt with one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Qui didn't wanna be later than qui already was. They take a sharp turn towards a door with a sign that reads 'party up here' in red sharpie. Qui opens it and sees a flight of stairs longer than qui was expecting. _Fuck._

With a deep breath, qui gained the strength needed to keep running. The brunet had run away from cops many a time. This wasn't gonna be so hard.

Spoiler: it was.

Triumphantly, they grab the key from their leather jacket. Perks of being one of the organizers.

The roof was full to the brim with students, and Ancom only recognized about half of them. There were some very rough DIY heart decorations and others that had clearly been repurposed to fit the theme. The budget was still low, but at least they had managed to gather a sizable amount of hype- and money- for the ball not to fail completely. There was pop music playing faintly in the background.

While making quis way among the crowd, qui spotted Ancap, chatting amicably in that extroverted way of his. He noticed quem looking, and raised his plastic cup in acknowledgment. Qui waved back, a little stiffly. _That guy is so odd. I have no clue how we managed to get him so involved in this. Maybe he just likes parties._

Despite it being the middle of February, the weather was on their side for this, and the sun was still shining so brightly qui had to take off their jacket, exposing quis distressed patchy band shirt and white laced up arm warmers. The Valentines Day theme of the party didn't exactly match with the different shades of greens and blacks in their wardrobe.

Finally, qui reached one of the multiple tables full of food and refreshments. Ancom placed quis bags of chips on one of the now half emptied paper bowls and left a bottle of coke in the make-shift cooler. The rule was to bring your own drink or food, and thanks to the turnout quite a few of the bowls were empty. Qui made a mental note to ask Anqueer if they had brought more.

_Speaking of Anqueer..._

Ancom notices Tankie being interrogated by them, Mutualist, Anfash, and Anihil. Part of quem wanted to rush to help, but qui couldn't help but be amused by the others strained face. Qui kept observing the pained expressions of their boyfriend and cackling to quemself. Qui could imagine how this was going.

Tankie then spotted Ancom looking and made a pleading face. Qui laughed even louder and shook quis head, mouthing a resound 'nope'. He glared. Qui glared back.

After a few more seconds of this, qui finally caved in and went over to save him from quis- well-meaning but unfortunately annoying- friends.

"Hey Tankie," qui says, acting as if qui had just arrived, "You look great." It was true, he really did. He was wearing a long beige trench coat and a dark burgundy sweater underneath. Instead of the old jeans qui was used to seeing him in, he was donning brown checkered dress pants. The ushanka was still there, of course. He couldn't be seen without it, ever. 

Quis friends made cooing noises, "Guys, no flirting just yet, we're still here." Anpac said, in an unnaturally natural-sounding teasing voice. Ancom was flushed a deep red.

_Betrayal._

"We're leaving now. You'll have to find someone else to annoy, cunts."

Mutualist crossed her arms in fake frustration and jutted out her lip, "Mean."

"You know it. C'mon." Qui reached out for quis boyfriend's hand and dragged him around towards the source of the music, a make-shift dance floor with equipment 'borrowed' from the theatre club. There were some couples around, talking and enjoying the selection of classic songs the GSA had hand-picked for the ball. They all had great music taste. 

Ancom turned around briefly to give Tankie a quick peck on the corner of his lip. "You're welcome by the way." 

He smiled in that way that made quis heart melt, responding by tightening his grip on their interlocked hands. "What would I do without you?" Qui giggled. 

The DJ was one of quis classmates from comp-sci. He was wearing a sort of... cardboard robot costume? Was he a Daft Punk wannabe? Did someone tell him this was a costume party? Whatever. 

The sun was beginning to set, and so qui pulled up quis jacket again. Qui told Tankie to wait there for a second while qui asked for the robot dude to play them a song. 

They walked back to where he was waiting and went back to holding his hand. He looked sideways, brows furrowed anxiously. Which in turn made quem worry. 

"What's wrong?"

"We're not gonna dance, are we? I don't know how to dance."

Qui smiled, "Just follow my lead."

A sweet melody resounded through the open space as qui placed both arms behind his shoulders, causing Tankie's to naturally gravitate towards quis waist. They were looking into each other's eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared for an instant. Quis boyfriend placed a long kiss on quis forehead as they both move gently with the melody.

_In the morning when I wake_  
_And the sun is coming through,_  
_Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,_  
_And you fill my head with you_

Perfection escaped quem. But this was the closest thing there was to it.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter+ instagram + tiktok (cosplay and generally dumb shit): cosmixseul  
> tumblr (rarely use it): goblin-enbyz
> 
> im a bit rusty sorry for that augh. song at the end is bloom by the paper kites


End file.
